[ It's a strange, broken comparison that springs into her head when her words dissert her at his one.
Of afternoons, or late evenings. In the attic, in the window. In one of their bedrooms, after lights out.
Sitting alone, in the silence, of those worst days growing up. Unfixable except with endurance. Her rage at her father's cold clinical treatment of everything, or his punishments for using her power too flagrantly. Luther's brooding judgment, his own judge and jury even beyond their father's disappointed expression. When one of the others wasn't pulled into line right and something was cost. When he'd forgotten to control his own powers in some fashion, broken something aa.
Together even when they couldn't fix things. Together against the world. Together even at their supposed worse. Naive enough to think it was unbreakable. Naive enough to think it about themselves, each other, their ... friendship.
It's like that. It's not. It's all broken. There's so much distance. So many years. A chasm that can't be filled.
Any yet. He's there. At the other end of this pitiful excuse for being there. And she's here. Both saying the truth. Neither of them giving a patented lie that anyone else might get. ]
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obediences) wrote2019-03-28 10:51 am
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Of afternoons, or late evenings.
In the attic, in the window. In one of their bedrooms, after lights out.
Sitting alone, in the silence, of those worst days growing up. Unfixable except with endurance. Her rage at her father's cold clinical treatment of everything, or his punishments for using her power too flagrantly. Luther's brooding judgment, his own judge and jury even beyond their father's disappointed expression. When one of the others wasn't pulled into line right and something was cost. When he'd forgotten to control his own powers in some fashion, broken something aa.
Together even when they couldn't fix things. Together against the world. Together even at their supposed worse.
Naive enough to think it was unbreakable. Naive enough to think it about themselves, each other, their ... friendship.
It's like that. It's not. It's all broken. There's so much distance. So many years. A chasm that can't be filled.
Any yet. He's there. At the other end of this pitiful excuse for being there. And she's here.
Both saying the truth. Neither of them giving a patented lie that anyone else might get. ]
no subject